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i’ve had two earth shattering, perfect crushes in my lifetime. one in middle school, one in high school. i’m pretty easy to please, but i don’t spend my emotions freely; if i’m going to take the time to think of you, you better be worth while. i’ve never been one to spend hours talking about boys, thinking about boys, or even writing about them. i hooked onto that ‘forever alone’ meme reeeeally quickly. 

6 foot 2, i think he said? no idea what the ethnicity is. quiet, quiet, quiet. great smile, though. hearty laughter. 

when people ask me what my type is, it’s hard to say. i like to think i know: someone intelligent, someone witty, someone with a great smile, charisma, humility, and a heart of gold. someone who’s into me. (there’s a great part of that movie ‘definitely, maybe’ that basically says that last one, and i’ve always identified strongly with the girl that says it like damn i just want someone who’s into me) when i look at my main two crushes, there’s really nothing in common between them, not even personality-wise. but the attraction was unreal.

perfect legs. intelligent. interested in travel (obviously). 

right now, i’m on the edge of a crush, teetering slowly into uncharted waters. it’s not as if i can’t handle myself in front of said crush; it’s not as if i’ll melt like putty into his hands, and it’s not as if i’m afraid of myself. i’m just so used to not speaking. so used to avoiding the feeling as if it’s already been denied, already been rejected. my brain is making up stories, making up scenarios that i know won’t hold true. but the optimist in me is starting to be hopeful. starting to smile a bit more, laugh a bit harder.

everything’s a hint towards something else in your mind, but what could it all really mean? and what could it matter, if you’re the only one thinking this way?

i’m allowing myself to have a bit more fun this time around; i’m feeling myself get more comfortable, understanding what i might do in future situations, and realizing just what my ‘type’ is. i’m not sure if i can put it to words. but for now, i have a face and a name.

perfect, perfect eyes.

my blog has been nearly all me for the past two months (very few reblogs, lots of text posts, selfies, random pictures of the sky and my feet), and i’m in love with it all. i want to be the blogger i idolize; i want to do interesting things and photograph them. i want to write about my friends and keep a tally of how often i make mistakes, how often i forgive myself. i want to publish the drafts i thought were too embarrassing to post; i want to be rebellious, reckless, selfish, thoughtful. i want to hold myself accountable to my happiness, and relish in every moment that is mine, and only mine. 

i want to continue to learn about myself and the people around me, and grow into this body i was given, this mind i’ve cultivated over time.

six selfies for your viewing pleasure

my mom consistently asks me every time I enter a new environment if there are any cute boys there and I’m always like “eh” and she says “you don’t have to marry them, but cute boys make things more enjoyable” and I never really was with it until recently

cute boys really do make things much more fun

Between The Bars

Madeleine Peyroux - Careless Love

759 plays

chinchillala:

This is beautiful cover of a very heart wrenching song. Madeleine has really done justice to an Elliott Smith favorite. The slow and heaviness of the music led by her Billy Holiday-esque voice is something I can’t get over. 

I’ve spent almost every single weekend with people this summer up until this one. I’ve been extending myself a crazy amount just so I could say I did it, so I could say I didn’t hold myself back, so I could say I tried. So my mother couldn’t give me any crap in August. And I’ve had a good time so far; I’ve loved hanging out with friends and getting to know people. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to the time I get to spend with my thoughts. I haven’t felt this good, this rested, this confident, this lovely, in a long time.

I’d like to give a personal thank you to Ella Fitzgerald and Nina Simone for making me feel beautiful this evening.

They Can't Take that Away from Me

Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald

1433 plays

I might have a slight obsession with soap

it’s been the loveliest Sunday: I haven’t done anything. currently watching about time and picking out songs for a playlist for later tonight, when I’ll take a soak in a lavender scented tub.

naps and leftover platanos are the makings of a good sunday

dailydc:

Trains leaving Foggy Bottom by soleil1016 on Flickr.

HW